


(Day 18) Deal

by mydwynter



Series: January Sherlock Vignette Challenge [18]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Humour, January Sherlock Vignette Challenge, Kidfic, M/M, Uncle Mycroft - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 12:29:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/662015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydwynter/pseuds/mydwynter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>John handed the mobile to his six-year-old son Jack, who was currently leaning back in his chair with a pout to rival his father’s. “Jackie, Uncle Mycroft would like to have a word.”</i>
</p><p> </p><p>John enlists some outside assistance at dinner.</p><p>(In the same 'verse as <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/629927">(Day 7) Minding</a>.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Day 18) Deal

**Author's Note:**

> My mind rebels in stagnation. So every day for the month of January…well, I had PLANNED on posting a Sherlock vignette, born out of prompts from generators and friends alike, little pieces written quickly and posted, sketches made from words. But these best laid plans went massively aglay due to travel and illness, so I have a lot of catching up to do. January was a terrible time to do this, it turns out. Terrible.
> 
> Prompt via [Moonblossom's Sherlock Fanfic Prompt Generator](http://moonblossom.net/prompter/): John, Mycroft, kidfic, Angelo's, "you can't always get what you want".

“John.” Mycroft’s voice came smoothly over John’s mobile. “Good evening. What can I do for you?”

“Hi Mycroft. I was wondering if you could do me a favour.”

“Yes?” Mycroft said, the note of surprise evident in his voice.

“I have a young boy here who, as far as I can determine, hasn’t eaten a vegetable the whole week I’ve been out of town, and ‘but they are green like bogies’ is not a sufficient reason not to eat his peas right now.”

“Ahh. Well. What, precisely, would you like me to say?”

“I’m sure you can think of something suitably convincing.”

“Coercion?”

John stifled a smile. “If you like.”

“Then pass your phone over, if you would.”

John handed the mobile to his six-year-old son Jack, who was currently leaning back in his chair with a pout to rival his father’s. “Jackie, Uncle Mycroft would like to have a word.”

Grudgingly, the boy took the phone and scowled into it. “What.” John watched his son’s eyes get big, then widen further, and then Jack’s face was all horror. “I’m sorry Uncle Myc. Please…please don’t. I’ll eat them. I promise. I’ll eat them.” He listened for a few moments more then nodded. “Okay. I’m sorry.” Jack visibly gulped and handed the phone back to John. “He wants to talk to you.”

John blinked at the expression on his son’s face, then tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder as he leaned over and cut Jack’s spaghetti into smaller pieces to stop him making such a mess with it. He had to dodge Jack’s fork as the child began shoveling peas into his mouth as fast as he could manage. “What did you say to him? He looks terrified.”

“I only persuaded him that growing boys should eat their vegetables, else unfortunate things might happen in future.”

John blinked. “Mycroft, what did you _say_.”

“Nothing sinister, John.”

“On second thoughts, I’m not convinced calling you was such a good idea.”

“I merely suggested that sugar could only be consumed by young boys who ate the requisite vitamins and minerals a growing body needed.”

John snorted. “Really.”

“Only that.”

“Just a bit of bribery, then.”

“If you like.”

A brief image of the candy drawer in Mycroft’s office flitted through John’s head, the one Jack thought his fathers knew nothing about, and John smirked to himself. “Well, thanks for the, er, sticking with the truth.”

“You’re very welcome.” Mycroft sounded far too amused with himself. “If there is more I can do, please don’t hesitate to phone me.”

“You could send home Sherlock from whatever ridiculous case he’s doing for you. We’ve barely had a day together in two weeks.”

“I’m afraid I cannot send him home until he’s finished, John. And what’s more you know that.”

John sighed heavily. “I know. I just needed to ask.”

“Sherlock is…eating his vegetables. However, I expect he’ll be home by the middle of the week.”

“Being home with his family isn’t just _candy_ , Mycroft. It’s important. Next time he owes you a favour maybe you could remember that.”

“Have a good evening, John. My love to Jack.”

Once again, John sighed. “Good night, Mycroft.” And he rang off, rubbing between his eyes wearily.

“Is Uncle Mycroft causing trouble?” Jack piped up from where he was piling spaghetti on the tines of his fork using his fingers.

John looked at him. “Why do you say that?”

“Because that’s the face you do when I’m causing trouble.” Successful, Jack balanced a massive glob of pasta into his mouth with a look of serious concentration.

Despite himself, John chuckled. “I suppose he is, then,” he said with a wry smirk, and handed his son a napkin. “Don’t choke. I don’t want to have to explain to your father that you ended up in hospital because you haven’t mastered eating like a human yet.”

“When we get Ethiopian you let me eat with my hands,” Jack said reasonably.

“Italian is with utensils. And smaller bites.”

“Dad shoves this much food in his mouth.”

“I’m not sure your dad has mastered eating like a human either.”

“I’m gonna tell him you said that.”

“Go ahead. I’ve said worse to his face.”

Jack giggled. “Plus he has a really big mouth to put it in.”

John stifled a grin. “Eat. If you do your best to pretend you’re a human, we can watch two episodes of Legend of Korra before bedtime.”

Jack sat up straight and wiped his mouth and tucked his napkin into his lap, and proceeded to eat like a perfect gentleman.

“See?” John said, finally getting to finish his chicken parmigiana, long since gone cold. “Why can’t you eat like that all the time?”

“ _Boring_ ,” Jack droned in perfect imitation of Sherlock, and John sighed the sigh of a man becoming painfully aware of all the troubles awaiting him in his future.


End file.
